Ah Noumea. We sailed through the Dunbar passage at the splendid hour of 5.30am. Sunrise coloured the waves in a photogenic manner. Forty minutes later I arrived on deck. It was still reasonably photogenic.

After a stroll around town and lunch at a patisserie, we embarked on a tour with wine and cheese. Our tickets stated that it was not a wine tasting tour. After a brief drive through town we arrived at a restaurant and were provided with three cheeses and three glasses of different wine to consume (but not taste). The consumption of cheese and wine was undertaken with grace and fortitude and delight. One could say it was a tasty experience.

Okay, this isn’t working for me. You see, we embarked on a tour but I feel quite conflicted about recording it. Our tour guide had not moved beyond his 1960s education and provided an unremittingly negative view of the Indigenous population. On one hand, I don’t expect everyone to have the same world view (some people find all of Today Tonight’s advice applicable to their life’s experiences). Our guide demonstrated one world view that is held by an expat Australian in Noumea. That’s an education in itself. Even with anonymity, I don’t know that it’s right to publicly humiliate the guy by quoting verbatim what he said then picking at it for posterity. On the other hand I’m still angry, embarrassed and disappointed that the view presented by our guide is what a bus load of people took home with them. With my third, equally attractive and functional hand, I lodged a complaint and expect that P&O’s internal processes will address the issue in a reasonable manner – the crew on the ship is made up of a dozen different nationalities. I hope changes are made with limited suffering.

By day three my world view was in disarray. Cruising was enjoyable. Horizons, cocktails, free time to read books, write, sketch, decent dinners and snacks to balance out the plantation buffet. The staff on the ship were exceptionally good at their jobs while also being patient and good humoured. The passengers all seemed happy, even with hangovers and motion sickness. Sure, group activities continued unabated with cued interaction and the same requisite banter could be heard in adjacent rooms simultaneously. But more importantly, some seriously messed up shit happened in the book I was reading.

After a breakfast of scrambled eggs that didn’t taste like scrambled eggs, bacon that didn’t taste like bacon, starchy fried things that masqueraded as hashbrowns I decided to have a second breakfast of rockmelon, watermelon and honey dew melon. These fortunately tasted as nature intended and provided sufficient sustenance for an hour massage. The massage was such that I forgave the quality of my breakfast and accepted all future buffet lunches and breakfasts on the cruise with grace and fortitude.

I also participated in group activities with grace and fortitude (provided that your understanding of grace and fortitude includes some scowling at the hosts’ inducements to cheer, yell and otherwise express enjoyment on cue). I made a gecko from wrapping ribbon and cheap flourescent beads, sat in on music trivia and played word games. At times my friends and I retreated to our respective books. Cats were harvested, boys were caught up in Oedipal curses and the space between conscious and group sub-concious merged as our ship ploughed its way through the ocean.

Sunset provided entertainment, though this too was cued by perogatives other than my own. Fortunately I had received no advice from Today Tonight regarding how I should relate to the movement of Earth through the solar system so felt free to enjoy without impediment. It would, I reasoned, be an enormous conceit to reprove the will of celestial bodies.